


Bed Testing

by americalovesthecockpit



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smut, lulz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 13:06:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americalovesthecockpit/pseuds/americalovesthecockpit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>France blackmails Canada into telling him a private, saucy story about him and Italy. Silly Canada/Italy fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bed Testing

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: This was for a request for a fluffy Canada/Italy story.

Italy turned his head sideways so that he could bite into the pillow. What would have been a cry became a stifled moan. Canada had been working his mouth over Italy's neck, and now was traveling down, where it stopped to suck at his collar bone. Italy arched his back with a gasp. He could feel Canada smiling as his mouth continued down, hands pulling the shirt open as he worked.

"How do you wanna do this?" whispered Canada in a voice too shy to match the dominating way his hands tore open that shirt.

"Umm." Italy hesitated. "From the front."

"Okay."

Italy curled his hands into the sheets. Canada had made his way down his navel, and now he panted hot breaths over the top of Italy's pants. He gave Italy one last glance, a paradoxical mix between boldness and hesitancy. Then he unzipped, releasing Italy from the confines of his designer pants.

Italy fisted even harder into the sheets as Canada slid a long, lustful lick of a his tongue down his length.

"Oh my."

Neither of the two of them heard the comment, spoken with a French accent.

It wasn't until Italy was fully sheathed inside the warmness of Canada's mouth, bobbing his head an unhurried pace, that they heard anything beyond themselves.

"It appears I am getting a free show today," said France.

"Oh shit," Canada whispered, though it was too softly for anyone to hear.

Both he and Italy had forgotten they were in neither of their bedrooms. No, they were at a mattress store. During business hours. Because it had slipped their mind where they were.

"I should shop here more often," said France, smirking down at them with a twisted grin.

Both Italy and Canada were suddenly in a flustered frenzy, struggling to fix their clothes. Italy frantically buttoned up his shirt as Canada hastily stuffed Italy back into his pants and zipped him up.

"Oh, no need to stop for me," chuckled France. "I certainly wouldn't mind if you continued. Zat is, of course, if you don't mind if I watch."

"P-please don't tell the store manager about this," pleaded Canada, as he tried to smooth down his hair. "I don't want anyone to find out!"

"Whaaa … that would be so embarrassing!" cried Italy.

"Hmm. Perhaps you should consider such possibilities before you proceed to make le amour with your mouth upon a mattress for sale in a public store, no?"

"Noooo!" whined Italy.

"Zat 'no' was supposed to be rhetorical …" said France. "… no?"

"N-"

Canada cut Italy off. "We just got caught up in the moment. It's a long story. Just please, please keep this quiet?"

France sat on the edge of the bed. The other two tensed but said nothing.

"Perhaps Big Brother can be convinced," started France. "If you were to share said 'long story' and explain it to him."

Italy and Canada exchanged confused glances. Once they realized he was speaking in third person again, they reluctantly complied.

"Fine," sighed Canada. "But all of this should be kept a secret, too."

"Ah, wonderful." France was making himself comfortable on the bed. Which, of course, made the other two uncomfortable. "Please do not leave a single scandalous, tantalizing detail amiss."

Yes. Very uncomfortable.

So Canada told France it all began when they decided they needed a new mattress. At least, that's where he thought it started. But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, France had to question why.

"What, did you wear ze last one ragged?" he said slyly.

Both Canada and Italy blushed furiously. So Canada was forced to backtrack his story further, trying to explain, so flustered he could barely say that the need was simply that his bed was old, and had nothing to do with, you know, sex, and he shouldn't assume such things!

France was very amused at how flustered both of them got, so he informed Canada that he still had not gone back far enough. He wanted to hear how they ended up together in the first place, as the pair had kept everything a big secret.

"That is also too long of a story!" said Canada nervously.

"I don't think it's too long," said Italy, oblivious. "As I remember, it happened pretty fast! A few months ago at the G8, and we were the only ones not arguing with anyone else, and one thing led to another and did you know that there is a janitor's closet very close to the conference room but luckily not too close or you would all have heard our-"

"Italy, shhh!" hushed Canada, clamping a hand over his mouth.

"Hohoho," chuckled France smugly. "Thank you for enlightening me, Italy."

Italy peeled back Canada's hand. "Ve~ you're welcome! It really is true though."

"Hmm? Zat you two are the only ones in the G8 who don't argue? Ah, yes. I can understand how you two could develop such sort of … shall we say … camaraderie?"

"Whaaa? No, silly! That there is such a conveniently placed closet just perfect for if the mood strikes and you want to -"

"Italy!" scolded Canada. "It's bad enough France knows this much already! Let's not share any more than we have to, eh?"

"Oh … so then we shouldn't tell him about that time I dressed up as the pizza guy like in that adult movie and pretended to have a big sausage -"

"NO ITALY!"

"My, my." At this point, France had settled in between the two of them, leaning back with his arms between his head, smugly relaxed. "I've never heard you be so loud before, Canada."

"Ooh, ooh! I have!" said Italy cheerfully. "He gets really loud if you lick just under -"

"JESUS MAPLE CHRIST!" exclaimed Canada. "Italy, please! Be quiet!"

"Aww." Italy pouted. "You're no fun."

"No, zis all sounds very fun," said France. "Please, Canada. Continue ze story. So you needed a new mattress, since it was so old -" He paused to wink with the word. "And you decided to come here."

"R-right," said Canada. "I needed a new bed and I came here, since America said he got a new bed from this store recently and was very happy with it."

"America, hmm? Zis is getting kinky. Please continue."

"Very well …" Canada was hanging his head in shame. "We came in with America, and that's how this whole thing started …"

X

A short time ago, America had forgotten that he was a country. No, the second he walked into that mattress store, he was suddenly a salesman. A pushy, shark-like salesman hungry to sell a mattress, despite he not actually making any money from the sale.

No, for him it was a matter of personal pride. National pride. He had to show Canada (and Italy too for some reason, though he didn't think too hard on that) that his mattresses were the best in the world.

"NASA made it!" he proudly proclaimed as he gestured to it like a game show host shows off a prize. "It's made of this cool foam stuff! I got one a little while ago and OH MY GOD, you guys. It's like sleeping on a cloud of awesome."

Canada and Italy took a good look at the mattress. It did look nice …

"It's so cool," continued America. "It's made from this stuff called Memory Foam! That's perfect for you, Canada. At least someone will remember you now, HAHA! Even if it's just a mattress, pffft." America was cracking himself up.

"Ve~ but I remember him …"

Canada elbowed Italy in the side. "Shhh."

"So whaddaya think, Canada? You gonna buy this or what?"

"Hmmm … I'm thinking about it … but it seems a little pricey. How much is it, anyway?"

"Oh, I dunno," shrugged America. "Check the tag."

Italy was closest so he grabbed it, peering his eyes to read.

"Wrong tag, dude," said America. "That's the one where if you remove it, the government comes and throws your ass in JAIL! The FBI hauls you off and throws you in the slammer for life. True story."

Canada rolled his eyes. "Oh, they do not."

"But but …!" Italy pulled his hand back from the tag like it was painful. "It did say on there 'do not remove under penalty of law'!"

"Told ya, dude."

"I don't wanna go to jaaaaaail!" whined Italy.

"So don't remove it, DUH!"

Canada ignored them and looked at the correct tag. The price tag. "Whoa. That is a lot for a mattress."

"Yeah, true," admitted America. "But come on. They say you spend like a third of your life asleep. Don't you think it's worth the money?"

"Plus the rest of the fraction for time you're in bed and not sleeping!" said Italy

Canada elbowed him in the side again.

"What are you doing in bed then -"

"I'll have to think about this," Canada interrupted America. "I don't know if I can afford it or not. You know how the economy is right now …"

"Right." America suddenly became very serious. "If-if you'll excuse me. I suddenly have some important business to attend to."

Canada was shocked by the extreme change in his demeanor. One minute he had been his usual silly, obnoxious self. The next he was overcome by an eerie determination. Canada watched America walk away, wondering what important business his brother had meant.

Then Canada saw that America was making a beeline straight for a man dressed up in a mattress costume, who was handing out flyers for the store.

"You," America said to him in a very determined voice. "You and me. Mattress mascot man. Picture. RIGHT NOW."

The man in the mattress costume was highly disturbed.

"My brother is so weird," lamented Canada, turning his attention back to Italy.

"Are you gonna get it?" asked Italy excitedly. He was pressing his palm into the Memory Foam, then he drew it away to see his handprint.

"I'm not sure. Let's look around a little more on our own, eh?"

"Okay!" chirped Italy.

They walked through the showroom, inspecting the beds, patting the softness or firmness of the mattresses, taking a test sit, checking price tags. Most were okay, but each was just a little too soft or hard or expensive or not expensive enough (Canada worried that if was so cheap, there must be something wrong with it.)

Then they came across a water bed. It took Canada by surprise, as he hadn't seen one of those in ages. For Italy though, it was pure excitement.

He dove onto the water bed, rolling around happily. The water sloshed and rolled beneath him. "VEEE~!" he exclaimed gleefully. "Let's get this one!"

"I … I don't know …" Canada said hesitantly.

"Aww, why not?" pouted Italy.

"I've heard they're a lot of work …"

"But …! It's so much fun! Come feel!"

Canada took a step back. "No thanks."

Italy rolled around on the bed. The bed rolled with him, like waves. "But look how fun this is! Plus, think how fun it will be when we have se- "

"Italy, shh," Canada hushed. "Someone might hear you."

"Awww … no one's listening to us. I was just thinking how it'd feel, with the water rolling beneath us, when we … uh … umm …"

"What's wrong?" asked Canada. Italy normally wasn't shy about saying much of anything. He was too oblivious for that.

"I … I suddenly feel really cold. And creeped out." He'd stopped rolling around and sat, drawing his arms in out of fear. "Canada, I'm scared."

"You know … I think I feel it too …"

Suddenly Canada knew why. There was a dark aura looming behind Italy. The aura materialized into a figure.

"You two like the water bed, da?"

Both Italy and Canada jumped at Russia's sudden presence.

"R-R-Russia," stammered Canada. "We didn't expect to see you here. What … uh … w-what are you doing in America?"

Russia grinned at them. He seemed amused at Canada's phrasing. "In America," he repeated, still wearing a seemingly innocent grin. "Hehe. I'm here for mattress."

Canada and Italy glanced at each other, confused.

"Oh … don't they sell them in your own country though?"

"Not from NASA." Russia's smile remained, but his eyes suddenly went dark. "I must spy on American space travel attempts. Cold War Space Race still very much going, da?"

"But … it's over. It's 2011."

"Not in my country."

Canada hesitated. He didn't know if Russia meant it's not over in his country or if it's not 2011 in his country. They did seem a little behind the times …

"But Russia, it's not a space travel attempt. It's just a new kind of mattress."

"Why would NASA waste time building mattress instead of rocket ship?"

"Uh …" Canada really didn't know the answer to that.

"Must be for space. But I spy on him."

"Okaaaay then … well … it was, uh, nice running into you, Russia. But Italy and I have to be going now …" Canada was trying so hard to catch Italy's eye and give him that let's go right now look. Unfortunately, Italy was oblivious.

"I had water bed once," said Russia, his aura returning.

"Th-that's nice …" said Canada. "Uh, Italy, are you ready to look at some more mat- "

"I only had for short time," interrupted Russia. "Pops so easily."

"All … all right then -"

"You want know how?" asked Russia. His eyes were still darkened.

"N-no, that's okay!"

"OOH OOH!" said Italy. "I do!"

"It all started when I made special-drink for Baltics -"

It was a story that shall (thankfully) remained untold. For Canada grabbed Italy by the wrist and hurried the two of them across the store.

He did not want to be around Russia any more.

"Now I'll never know how Russia's water bed got popped …" Italy pouted when they finally stopped.

Canada panted for a moment. "Be thankful for that!"

When Canada had caught his breath, he noticed where he was standing. It was on the other side of the store, among one of the various rows of beds. But this one was a little different. Amongst all the normal beds, there was one, the most expensive one in the entire store, fitted with the most expensive sheets, the highest thread count, the highest quality comforter with the most elaborate and gorgeous of patterns, decorated with silk pillows fitted with tassels, despite none of this being needed for the actual mattress, being the only part for sale. Canada pressed his hand into it, and was in even more awe, as it was the perfect firmness. Soft, but not too soft. It was the first and only in the store to be exactly what he was looking for.

"Wow," he said, drawing his hand back. "Shame this one is so expensive, or it'd be sold right now."

"But it's so prettyyyyy!" Italy was feeling with his own hand now, very much agreeing.

"I know. I want sheets like these."

"So fancy~!"

"And that comforter …"

"So beautiful~!"

"And the pillows are a nice touch too …"

"Molto buono~!"

"Yeah … such a shame I can't afford it."

"Awww … are you sure?"

Canada sighed. "Yeah, I'm sure."

Italy pouted for a moment, then brightened. "But we can pretend it's ours for a little bit, right?"

"Eh?"

Suddenly Italy hopped on the bed. "Come on! The salespeople don't know we can't afford it. If they ask, we'll just say we're just looking!"

"It's just going to depress me," said Canada. "To feel how nice it is, knowing I can't afford it."

"Try it anyway!" Italy grabbed Canada by the wrist and pulled him onto the bed. There was a moment where Canada lie straddled over Italy, making them both blush. But Canada quickly rolled off.

"I-it's nice," said Canada, now beside him. "The bed, I mean."

"Mmm," replied Italy, laying his head back on one of the many pillows. "Soooo nice."

Canada worried someone might have seen their awkward moment. It only lasted a couple seconds but that was enough to cause concern. He glanced around, wondering if he was safe, but then locked eyes with a very nervous looking Finland.

Finland hesitated to speak. But then he realized it'd been too long for them to be looking at each other and not do so without being rude, so he was forced to speak. "Oh, h-hey, Canada. Italy. H-how are you?"

Finland's nervousness greatly worried Canada. "G-good. How are y- "

"I haven't been here long!" Finland cut him off defensively. "In fact, I just got here!"

Canada knew his face was flushed. "I … I see …"

"Actually - oh my gosh. Silly me! I didn't even mean to be in this store!" Finland's words sounded forced. Insincere. "What was I thinking? I just walked in here by mistake!"

" … eh?"

"Don't mind me! I'll just be going now!"

"Umm … you don't have to …"

"Oh, no! I do! I mean, Sweden wouldn't be too happy with me if I was in a mattress store! Not when he's so heavily invested in IKEA! What kind of b - uh, friend would I be if I went looking elsewhere? Even if IKEA just isn't cutting it especially when we have really worn down the mattress - oh gosh! Look at me prattling on! Things are really just coming out of my mouth, huh? I'll be going now, goodbye …!"

Finland raced off almost as fast as Canada and Italy had from Russia.

"I guess he didn't see us after all …" Canada said, very relieved.

"Look, Canada," said Italy, pointing up. A ring of metal surrounded the bed. "I thought these things near the headboard were just meant to look fancy but they're moooore!"

"Eh?" Canada watched Italy draw back the curtain. It kept going and going until the bed was completely enclosed. "It has a canopy?"

"Yeah!"

The bed was entirely surrounded by the curtain. It was dim inside. The lighting was reddish, as the light from outside shown through the red pattern on the canopy curtains.

"Isn't this neat?" asked Italy.

"Yeah." Canada was glancing around. He knew other customers were in the store, not too far away, but with the canopy drawn it seemed like they were alone.

Italy noticed too. "Hey, Canadaaaa …" he started.

Canada wondered if that was a smirk on Italy's face, or just couldn't see him well enough in the dim light. "Yeah?"

"I have a crazy idea …"

Canada had a feeling what it was, but asked nonetheless. "What is it?"

"Let's christen these sheets."

Canada glanced away, thankful that the dim red lighting hid his suddenly flushed face.

"And by that, I mean let's have sex in here!" said Italy happily.

"I knew what you meant!" Canada whispered harshly back, growing more flustered. "It's just … ! I don't think it's a good idea. People are right outside that curtain. What if we get caught?"

"That didn't stop you at the G8~"

Canada stared intensely down at the sheets. He didn't want to look Italy in the eye. He feared he wouldn't be able to control himself if he did. He was trying to distract himself from the way Italy was positioning himself, scooting back and stretching, reclining with his head on the pillow near the headboard, bent his knees, and spread his legs a little.

It wasn't too hard to get distracted as he looked down. Those were really nice sheets, Canada mused.

Then he heard a short zipping sound. Too short.

"Ah!" cried Italy. "My zipper's stuck!"

"Pffft …" Canada covered his mouth to keep from cracking up more.

"WAAHHH! I CAN'T WORK THIS THING, IT'S STUCK, OH GOD, FIX IT FIX IT FIX IT, HELP CANADAAAA!"

"Shhh!" Canada quickly rushed over to cover his mouth. "People will hear you!"

"Fix it," said Italy's muffled voice from behind Canada's hand.

Canada removed his hand so that he could use both. Fingers trembling slightly, he tried to zip the zipper (up, not down, as he was thinking this was a bad idea). It was down halfway, and despite Canada's forceful tugging, would not budge.

"It's jammed," said Canada.

"Just fix itttttt!" whined Italy.

"I wish I could see better," Canada mumbled as he worked. He almost told Italy to draw the curtain open for more light, but then realized how wrong this all looked, and decided against it.

Canada was tugging hard at the zipper. Very hard. But it wouldn't move. So he tried pulling down, hoping if it would just get back on the little track, it could move in both directions. But even pulling down, it still didn't move. So Canada just kept trying, tugging at different angles as hard as he could, hoping to God one would work, because he did not want to walk out of the store with Italy's pants like that.

Then he realized there was another obstacle hindering him from fixing the zipper. It was Italy's swelling erection, already at half mast before he realized it.

"Italy …" he said in a scolding voice.

"I …! I'm sorry!" Italy was frantic. "It's just that we're on a bed, you're between my legs, and keep tugging at my crotch! I can't help it!"

"You're making it harder to fix. Now I have this getting in my way."

Canada's hand couldn't help but brush against the swelled flesh as it worked. Italy gasped when he did, as he plumped more at the sensation, bringing him to a full erection.

Italy's face burned red. It was a mix of embarrassment (he was caught in his own zipper, after all) and arousal. He knew he shouldn't, but he wriggled his hips on purpose. He rutted himself against Canada's hands, still trying furiously to fix the zipper, trying to get a taste of friction. He got the sensation and kept rubbing. He grinded himself against both of Canada's hands, which stilled when Canada realized what Italy was doing.

Now it was Canada's face that flushed hot. This was dumb - Italy had broken his own damn zipper. And he should have been frustrated - no, furious - that they were caught in such a potentially embarrassing position. And he somewhat was. But he was even more angry with himself, because seeing Italy like this, flushed and needy and rutting his erection against his hands, was making his own cock twitch to life.

"Let's do it," whispered Italy.

Canada ignored his own growing erection. He ignored Italy's too, literally pushing past it to try again at the zipper. "No, we shouldn't."

But the words were barely out when the zipper finally popped. It was back on the tiny track, and Canada give it a test tug, both up and down, to make sure it worked.

"You fixed it!" Italy said happily.

"I did." Canada's voice sounded distant, like he was deep in thought. He was still tugging up and down, and realized he needed to stop. He knew he should leave it zipped up, but he was wrestling with the thought of zipping it back down …

"Waaaaaah!" Italy exclaimed suddenly. "Canada, my buttons are stuck!"

Canada glanced up. Italy was trying (and failing) to undo the top button of his shirt.

"Why are you unbuttoning them in the first place? !"

Italy frowned. "Well, I wanna take my shirt off if we're gonna have sex~"

Canada sighed. He should have been even more annoyed, but he smiled with the sigh. He had to admit, he found Italy pretty cute when he was being stupid. Which was quite often.

"Take them offffff!" whined Italy.

"I told you. We shouldn't do this." That's what Canada said, but his fingers reached up to help undo the top button anyway. And the second. And third. He kept popping each one until they were all unfastened, and he parted the garment. He pushed each side away, exposing Italy's bare chest.

Canada ran his fingers over the skin. Italy's breath hitched, chest rising under his hands, meeting them closer. Italy's normally pale skin, like almost everything else with them, was colored red in the lighting from the canopy curtain. Though it was flushing a little pink on its own, as well …

"Did you change your mind?" whispered Italy, as if this was suddenly a secret since he was getting his way.

Canada took each of Italy's nipples in his fingers, one in each hand. At first he barely touched, letting the tips of his fingers tease the skin. Then as he felt Italy's chest sharply rise again, he rolled the nipples in his fingers. He then pinched - not enough to hurt, but enough to elicit a small squeak from Italy's throat.

"Thinking about it," Canada replied.

Italy lie back against the pillows. "I like the way you think~"

Of course, Canada had inadvertently made his decision earlier. He had left the zipper in the down position all along.

He realized, or perhaps actually remembered, this fact when his mouth trailed down Italy's body, planting small kisses in its wake. When he got to Italy's waist he saw what he had left undone. He hesitated, but kept going. He mouthed at Italy's erection through his boxers. The fabric wettened, and Italy squirmed.

It was a good thing his boxers didn't have anything 'difficult' like zippers or buttons to deal with. Canada was easily able to slide them off. He pushed them, pushing his pants down too, and left them around Italy's knees. Just enough to be out of the way.

Then it was nothing but bare skin. Italy had gotten his wish. Because Canada kissed the tip of Italy's length, then took the first couple inches in his mouth.

Italy keened, not having expected it (though definitely hoping for it) so soon. His hands gripped at the fancy comforter.

Canada suckled, hollowing out his cheeks. Occasionally he would let it slide out of his mouth for air, letting the flat, wide bottom of his tongue run along the length as he did. After an intake of breath he would enclose his mouth around Italy's erection once more, returning to sucking and rolling his tongue.

Suddenly Italy sat up. The movement pushed him deeper into Canada's mouth, pushing against the back of Canada's throat. Canada didn't release him but quietly whined. Then he saw why Italy had moved.

Italy was quickly undoing Canada's own button and zipper. Which was odd, because he had absolutely no trouble with that. Even in his frenzied pace, even being distracted by Canada's mouth around him, he easily released Canada's erection from his pants with an impressive dexterity.

Canada wondered momentarily how the hell Italy did that. But he didn't think about it for too long. Because Italy started stroking him.

It was an awkward position, with Canada leaning so low to use his mouth on Italy, and Italy stretching his arm to beat Canada off. But they continued for another minute or so, keeping their noises, sharp gasps and stifled groans, quiet.

Finally Canada slid Italy out of his mouth for good. He held a mouthful as he pulled back, a mix of saliva and precum. He spit it in his hand and rubbed it between his fingers.

Italy took the cue. He lie back against the pillows again. He spread his legs, bent at the knees.

Even with Italy's legs spread, Canada crawled to Italy and pushed one thigh back even farther. He rubbed at the inside of Italy's leg, soothing it, as he pressed one finger into Italy's entrance with his other hand.

It wasn't the best of lubes but it would do. A second finger joined in. Canada hooked his fingers, sliding them in out, best preparing Italy he could. When Italy was rocking back on Canada's fingers, a third was added, and Italy hissed as he was stretched.

Canada planted a kiss on the inside of Italy's thigh. "You good?"

"Mmm," Italy said excitedly. "Yeah, I'm ready!"

"Shhh. Remember, we have to be quiet."

"QUIET! ! GOT IT! !" Italy exclaimed.

"I said shhhh!"

Canada withdrew his fingers. He gripped his own length and adjusted for the angle.

"This is so exciting! Reminds me of when we first got together and there was the thrill of getting caught! Though of course I'm glad we didn't! But it's going to be weird not being able to - aaaAAH!" Italy's annoying babbling was cut off with a hitched moan. Canada had entered him while he was talking.

Canada pushed himself in to the hilt, every inch fully engulfed. He shuddered hard, forcing himself to stay there for a moment. The tight heat had almost sent him over the edge already, and if he'd already come this far, he didn't want to ruin this as soon as it started.

Once Canada was confident he'd kept himself from going over the edge, he pulled back, and then sheathed himself again. He repeated, building a gradually quickening pace.

The faster Canada went, the louder Italy became. At first he wasn't that bad. Just a few gasps and quiet moans. But they were building in volume as Canada sped up.

"Shhhh," hushed Canada. "I don't wanna get caught."

"Mmm - um - o-kay!" Italy replied with a wavering, stilted voice.

What a shame Canada couldn't afford that bed. It was so well made, it didn't even squeak, despite how feverish Canada's rhythm had become.

They were almost silent then. The only sounds were short, shallow breaths and a light slapping of skin. Hopefully the canopy curtain was thick enough to block the small noises.

Though it wasn't thick enough to contain the next sound made. For when Canada struck Italy's prostate dead on, the only way to describe the noise he emitted was a squeal.

Yes, a squeal. A loud, sharp, high-pitched one. Canada had to cut it off by clapping his hand over Italy's mouth.

"Shhh! What did I tell you?" Canada whispered harshly.

But Italy couldn't contain himself. He was still moaning behind Canada's hand. A lower, "mmm, mmm" noise.

So Canada continued to hold his hand over Italy's mouth as he thrust. Canada's other hand snaked up and grasped Italy's cock. He started to stroke him in time with his thrusts. All while continuing to stifle Italy's moans, hand firmly clasped over his mouth.

"I'm getting close," Canada whispered with a ragged voice. "Nod if you are, too."

Italy nodded his head vigorously.

"Let's cum together," said Canada. He quickened his hand, making tight, hard, deliberate strokes.

They watched each other for the small clues. The way Canada's thrusts became slightly more erratic, more shallow. The way Italy sucked in a breath and held it. The way Canada stiffened up. The way Italy arched up.

They timed it almost perfectly, both cumming hard within seconds of each other.

Italy was mere moments before Canada. He moaned one more time into Canada's hand still over his mouth, before tensing and releasing, trickling down Canada's other hand.

Canada very shortly followed. He came as the last bit of Italy's orgasm was still reeling. He pumped through it, a couple frantic thrusts, before finally stilling and collapsing against Italy's chest.

A sense of calm overcame them. Canada finally withdrew his hand from Italy's mouth, and they both lie catching their breath-

"NOW WAIT A MINUTE!"

France interrupted the story.

Canada had gotten a bit carried away in its retelling. It wasn't until France's outburst that he realized how much he'd gotten into it, sharing way more details than he really needed to.

"What's wrong?" asked Canada, looking away to try to hide his flush of embarrassment.

"You said you were going to explain how I found you two a few minutes ago!" said France.

"But … I am," said Canada.

"Non," said France. "I caught you much earlier than zat - you did not have your clothes off! You did not complete ze act! In fact, zis isn't even ze same bed you were describing!" France gestured to the bed the three of them were on. It, indeed, was a normal bed. No fancy sheets or blankets or pillows, and certainly no canopy!

Canada looked over at Italy for help. But Italy had fallen asleep during the story.

"Of course, it's not like I mind your - heh- creative embellishment," continued France. "It's just zat I asked for ze truth."

"But that is the truth!" said Canada. "You didn't let me finish!"

"Oh?"

"Yeah, see, that was last week."

France cocked an eyebrow. "Go on …"

"Yeah, we came in with America last week to buy a mattress, got distracted, uh, that happened, and so after we were done we hurried out of the store just in case anyone knew what we did."

"So why are you here today?"

"Well … we never got to actually buy a mattress that day," said Canada. "So we came back."

France look puzzled. "But zen … how did I catch you with your mouth wrapped so delicately around -"

"That …!" Canada interrupted. "We just, well, were testing out the bed again, laid down in it to feel how soft it was, stole a kiss, kept going, got distracted, forgot where we were, one thing led to another … and yeah …"

"I see," said France. "Zat's really all you had to tell me. Zat's the story I asked for, not ze one you told me."

Canada looked horrified. "Are … are you serious?"

"But of course! I was only curious."

Canada covered his face in shame. "Oh God … and I told you so much … so much more than I needed to … how embarrassing …"

"No, no. Don't you worry yourself over zat."

Canada looked up. "Eh?"

"I very much enjoyed your story," he replied with a smirk as he hopped off the bed. "I apologize, for I must be taking my leave now. I have a date that I am very much anticipating."

"Oh - okay." Canada tried to hide his relief. "Good luck. Who's your date?"

France was a few steps from the bed now, but glanced back to wink. "Just my hand today."

It was when Canada watched France walked off that he realized the Frenchman had a very prominent erection. From listening to Canada's story, no doubt.

"Oh God …" said Canada, so very ashamed.

He looked down to Italy, hoping for some sort of comfort, but Italy was still sound asleep. Canada couldn't help but sigh with a smile at how cute he looked when he slept. He leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead.

"Time to wake up, Italy," whispered Canada. "We actually need to buy a mattress this t- OH GOD!"

As Canada sat up he locked eyes with a figure that had been standing behind Italy at the front of the bed. A figure with an aura.

"R-Russia!" stuttered Canada. "What are you doing here?"

"Still spying on space bed."

"How … uh … how long have you been standing there?"

Russia smiled. "Long time."

"So you heard … my … um … story?" Canada asked nervously.

Russia was still smiling. "Mmm!" he said affirmatively.

Canada clasped his hands together. "Please don't tell anyone!" he pleaded. "France knowing is bad enough! Just please, I'm begging! Keep this is a secret!"

Russia giggled. "Okay. I will on one condition."

Canada was almost too afraid to ask. "What … is it?"

Russia plopped himself on the bed. Right between Italy and Canada. "Tell me a story, too."

Canada scooted himself away a few inches. Russia was uncomfortably close … "Um, okay. What kind of story?"

"Story about me and America."

Canada looked confused. "America?"

"Da! A story like one you tell France. With the naughty details."

"But … something like that has never happened with you two …"

"I know. That's why I want story!" Russia said happily. "Make one up!"

Canada swallowed nervously. This was not going to be fun. But if it meant keeping his secret with Italy, he supposed he'd have to do it. "Okay …" he started. "Once upon a time, there were two countries called America and Russia, and they had a magic space bed …"

"I LIKE!" Russia said happily.

Canada swallowed nervously. This was going to be awkward …

(The end!)


End file.
